Say My Name
by DebC75
Summary: The romance is just beginning (sequel to "Say Anything")


Say My Name  
  
By Langleigh  
  
E-mail: langleigh75@yahoo.com  
  
Category: SR  
  
Keywords: MRR (Mulder/ReyesRomance)  
  
Rating: PG/PG13  
  
SPOILERS: TINH, DeadAlive, Empedocles, Vienen and Alone  
  
Archiving: Ephemeral, Gossamer, XFMU, Auburnished (for her OpenrEyes site) and my good friend Azar have my expressed permission to archive this story. ALL OTHERS MUST ASK FIRST.  
  
Summary: Reyes leaves but the romance is just beginning  
  
Disclaimers: The X-Files, Mulder and Reyes belong to CC and FOX. I'm playing games with them and will return them by the designated curfew. ;-)  
  
The song in this fic is "You Move Me" as sung by Garth Brooks in his Album entitled "Sevens." (words provided from album cover)  
  
Author's Notes: This is a follow-up to "Say Anything." If you haven't read it, it's on Ephemeral still, along with some other places. Or you can read it here: http://www.crosswinds.net/~mystwaysfanfic/ReyesRomances/sayanything.html  
  
Feedback is appreciated but flames and other generally rude comments will be discarded in the trash bin. I decided I don't care what the nay-sayers think.  
  
"Say My Name"  
  
~X~  
  
This is how it seems to me  
  
Life is only therapy  
  
Real expensive  
  
And no guarantee  
  
So I lie here on the couch  
  
With my heart hanging out  
  
Frozen solid with fear  
  
Like a rock in the ground  
  
~X~  
  
  
  
Mulder sat alone on the couch in his apartment, trying to make sense of the only thing that seemed to matter at moment: his relationship with Monica Reyes.  
  
Or rather, he trying to figure out how one night with a woman could change his entire life.  
  
One night, he mused. One night...  
  
He had left Scully's totally unsure of what he was going to do once he found Reyes. All he knew was that the past week had been one he would remember forever. Being by her side--working with her, smiling with her-- had made him feel more alive than he had in ages. And he had to know, before she left his life forever, if the attraction he'd been feeling for her was mutual.  
  
He'd thought he had been ready to kiss her, but when he finally tasted the lips he'd been fantasizing about, he knew he'd been wrong. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the rush of exhilaration he felt when she responded to his touch.  
  
Closing his eyes, Mulder could still feel her warm, soft lips moving against his own. He could still taste her--the sweet taste of woman, sex and alcohol. He sighed, recalling her voice--hoarse with desire--as she told him they shouldn't be doing this here. He'd awakened in the gray of the morning, laying beside her in the hotel bed, and watched her sleeping. Slowly, he'd memorized her every feature, trying to burn the image into his mind.  
  
He recalled that image from his memory, and wondered what to do about the feelings he had for this woman.  
  
It wasn't just a one-night stand. He'd had those before, and he knew better than to think they were anything like this. Something happened when he and Monica Reyes had kissed... and made love that night. He didn't know how to describe it; it was as if they had become one.  
  
And now... not only could he not get her out of his mind, he couldn't get her out of his soul.  
  
Mulder pulled out the postcard she'd written her home phone number on. "Call me" was scribbled beneath the number. With shaking hands, Mulder took the cell phone from his pocket and dialed. Which was silly, he rationalized. She was still on the plane and he was only going to get an answering machine.  
  
A few minutes later, he heard the {{beep}} of the aforementioned answering machine, and nervously began to speak.  
  
"Ummm... Reyes, hi. It's me... Mulder. I just... wanted to know if you got in okay. Call me."  
  
He hung up the phone quickly, feeling like a nervous school boy. A million thoughts raced through his mind, the most prominent one being that she wouldn't return his call. What if their night together scared her off? What if he'd been too forward? Too pushy? What if she already had someone else?  
  
No... a voice from deep within told him. She didn't have anyone else. There was no one else--for either of them.  
  
*x*x*x*x*  
  
  
  
It was late when Monica Reyes's flight got into New Orleans International airport. She grabbed her luggage and hurried out front to hail a cab. After several tries, she managed to find one that wasn't already occupied or conveniently just going off duty. While the driver placed her things in the trunk, Reyes slipped inside the cab. She gave her destination to the cabbie and then wearily rested her head against the window.  
  
Her eyes fluttered closed and Fox Mulder's smiling face floated instantly across her mind. He looked just like he had earlier that morning, when she'd awakened to find him studying her raptly.  
  
::I didn't mean to wake you,:: he'd said in a deep, sensual voice. Then he smiled a mini-version of the smile that had gotten her hooked on him in the first place.  
  
Just like a drug, Monica thought as she shook her head, clearing Mulder from her mind temporarily. She wondered if this drug would wind up being bad for her. She seriously hoped not, as she wasn't sure she wanted to give up just yet.  
  
Their connection had been so strong... stronger than any she'd had before. With anyone, except for maybe John. But her connection to John had been one of friendship. This was so much more. And to think what started it was just one kiss...  
  
A kiss that had turned in to a flame.  
  
Monica could still feel his lips pressing against her own and his hands reaching out for her--touching her with the skill of a long-time lover even though this was their first time together.  
  
But there was more... so much more...  
  
With each kiss--each sensual touch--Mulder's soul, his very essence of being, seemed to seek out her own. And when they both collapsed in each other's arms after having sated a burning sexual desire, she'd felt a peaceful weariness envelope them, lulling them to sleep.  
  
Monica Reyes let out a deep sigh and brought her mind back to the present. The cab was pulling up in front of her apartment.  
  
She paid the cabbie, tipping him heavily because she didn't have change for a twenty, and watched him drive away before going inside.  
  
The first thing she saw upon entering the apartment was the red blinking light on her answering machine.  
  
Reyes sighed again, this time not a wistful sigh borne of longing for the man who had so recently become her lover, but a travel weary one. She hadn't realized how tired she was until she'd dropped her bags on the floor and knew she was home.  
  
Ten messages waiting... that's what the LCD display said as it flashed the number ten over and over again.  
  
She hit the play back button, and after a second, her mother's voice came on. Mom wanted to know why she never called anymore. It seemed she wanted to know that for the next seven messages as well. Message number nine was from her boss at the New Orleans branch office. He wanted her to check in bright and early. No sleeping in.  
  
Then she heard a voice she hadn't expected to hear so soon. ::Ummm... Reyes, hi. It's me... Mulder.:: Her breath caught in her throat as she listened to him speaking. He sounded so unsure of himself. Was it just because of the answering machine, she wondered. Or was Fox Mulder starting to doubt the power of what happened between them? Even his last words to her--call me--seemed to hint of uncertainty.  
  
*x*x*x*x*  
  
~X~  
  
This is how love was to me  
  
I could look but not see  
  
Going through the emotions  
  
Not knowin' what they mean  
  
And it scared me so much  
  
That I just wouldn't budge  
  
I might have stayed there forever  
  
If not for your touch  
  
~X~  
  
  
  
Weeks passed before Monica heard anything from Mulder, and it was purely by luck that they even connected. It seemed as if she was always missing his phone calls. She'd come home from work to find a cryptic "hi, it's me" on her answering machine followed by a "call me." Only for some reason, she could never bring herself to call him back. His messages seemed so impersonal... detached, somehow.  
  
Monica knew she couldn't commit herself to a man who wouldn't commit to her the same way. She just hadn't had the heart to call and tell him so.  
  
Instead, she would up fighting with herself over it. Part of her just didn't want to let go of Fox Mulder that easily.  
  
And then he called her...  
  
"Hi!" he said, sounding surprised that he'd actually caught her. "It's me."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Monica sat down in a chair in her living room, her mind already forming an image of his smiling face.  
  
"I've missed you. Why haven't you called?" his voice sounded hurt.  
  
"I've been busy," she said a little too quickly. Her mind was reeling. His voice *had* sounded hurt; she couldn't have imagined it. Could she have been misjudging Fox Mulder?  
  
"Yeah, me too. I, umm... helped your friend Doggett on a couple of cases..." he said, drawing her attention back to the actually phone call.  
  
"Yeah... John told me about the black oil thing."  
  
"He didn't believe in it at first," Mulder told her. "But I think Agent Doggett will come around. Especially after last week."  
  
"What happened last week?" Monica asked.  
  
"Well, for starters, I got fired last week. I'm no longer in the FBI." His words nearly caused her to drop the phone.  
  
"Oh, Fox..." she breathed sympathetically, slipping his first name in there by accident. She hadn't even realized she'd done it. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Please don't... Don't call me that. No one calls me that."  
  
"Call you what?" she asked. Then it dawned on her. His name. "Oh," she said, her voice deadpanning. She'd heard the rumors. He even forced his parents to call him "Mulder."  
  
"Reyes... I..." his voice sounded troubled. "I didn't mean to sound so... mean. It's just that... I don't like people calling me by that name."  
  
Monica knew he was trying to apologize--to smooth things over--but she wasn't sure she could accept it. "What else am I supposed to call you?" she asked, even though she knew the answer to come. Her heart sunk low in her chest as she heard him utter his last name. "I... I'm not sure if I can accept that," she told him.  
  
*x*x*x*x*  
  
  
  
Mulder stared at the cell phone in his hand, astonished, as if it had bitten him. Had he really heard what he thought he'd heard? Had she really said... ? An empty feeling bubbled up within the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of losing this woman now. He couldn't lose her; he'd have no thing left if he did.  
  
But her conditions...  
  
Mulder shook his head slowly and paced his apartment until he came to the couch, which he sort of lifelessly flopped onto. Her conditions befuddled him. She'd said she wanted to call him--no, she'd said "needed"--by his first name. He hated his first name.  
  
"I've never let anyone call me by my first name," he said to his fish. "Why should this woman be any different?" The swam around indifferently, as fish do, and offered no insights.  
  
The nagging voice in the back of his mind, however, did. That's not entirely true, *Fox*, it seemed to be saying. Maggie Scully never called him by his surname. And what about John Doggett? He'd called him by his first name just the other day... and Mulder hadn't even corrected him.  
  
"That's it!" Mulder exclaimed, jumping from the couch. He rushed from the apartment without bothering to say what exactly "it" was, however. Not that the fish cared.  
  
*x*x*x*x*  
  
Mulder pounded furiously on John Doggett's door. "Come on, Doggett! I know you're in there. There's a race on TV today!"  
  
The door opened and John Doggett stepped out. "What does a race have to do with anything?" he asked, stepping aside to let Mulder inside. "You're looking very... frantic... this afternoon, Mulder," he observed. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"I need your help."  
  
"My help? You need *my* help?" Doggett's voice was a mix of incredulity and sarcasm. Mulder rolled his eyes.  
  
"Look, I think I screwed--no, I *know* I screwed things up between me and Agent Reyes and I need you to help me fix it," Mulder admitted, then he stepped back when Doggett's teasingly sarcastic expression transformed into something slightly more primal and definitely more angry.  
  
"What did you do to Monica? You hurt her, didn't you?" Doggett accused instantly. His body was tense, like an older brother ready to defend his sister's honor.  
  
"Yes, I..."  
  
"I *knew* it, damn it!" Doggett exclaimed, swearing loudly. "I *knew * shouldn't have told you how to find her that night." His eyes narrowed as the fixed on Mulder. "What'd you do?"  
  
Mulder opened his mouth, and the whole thing spilled out, starting with that night at the bar. He told Doggett how he'd felt waking up next to her- -like his whole world had changed in some significant way... and about their phone calls, and finally, about Monica's ultimatum.  
  
"Do you love her?" Doggett asked when he was finished speaking.  
  
"Yes," Mulder said miserably.  
  
"Then what's the problem?"  
  
Mulder shook his head. "It's not that simple. My name--"  
  
"Look," Doggett said, pushing a finger into Mulder's chest. "I don't care about you and your name, but I do care about Monica. It's a part of who she is..." he seemed to be fighting for the right words. "She calls people by their first names because it lets her feel connected to them," he said at last. "Why she'd want that connection with *you* beats the hell out of me, though."  
  
*x*x*x*x*  
  
~X~  
  
Oh but you move me  
  
Out of myself and in to the fire  
  
You move me  
  
Now I'm burning with love  
  
And hope and desire  
  
How you move me  
  
You go whistling in the dark  
  
Making light of it  
  
Making light of it  
  
And I follow with my heart  
  
Laughing all the way  
  
~X~  
  
Reyes sat on the floor in the middle of her living room. She wore gray sweat pants and a plain, white tee shirt. Her legs were folded in a lotus position and her arms were out-stretched before her, palms towards the ceiling. The morning sun flooded the room from her open window, bathing the room in golden light.  
  
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the fresh air diffuse as it went through her. It was her morning ritual: meditate, prepare for the day, and purge herself of any unwanted residue from the day before. And boy! Did she have unwanted residue this morning. She'd spent the last two days waiting to see if Fox (Mulder, she mentally corrected herself) called her back, half fearing what he'd say and half fearing he wouldn't call at all. He hadn't, and she'd been forced to admit she'd erred somehow. She thought--truly--that there had been a connection between them, but she'd been wrong. Her lip quivered at the admission, and she had to bite back the sob that rose in her throat. She'd done enough crying last night, she chided herself as she forced her mind back to her meditation.  
  
'Breathe in,' she told herself, taking the breath necessary to return to a state of calm. Before she could reach it, however, the phone rang. "Oh, Hell," she said aloud. "it wasn't working anyway."  
  
"Monica Reyes," she chirped into the phone.  
  
"Yeah, I know," a familiar voice said and she nearly dropped the phone.  
  
"You have perfect timing," she said, recovering a little from her shock. "I was just thinking about you."  
  
"Something good, I hope."  
  
"Not really," she admitted dryly. "I was just thinking that you weren't going to call back. Our last phone conversation was rather eventful."  
  
Mulder laughed, and despite being angry at him, Monica felt a thrill run through her at the sound. What he said next, however, shocked her even more than his voice on the other end of the line. "I probably deserve that, but I still called back."  
  
"Actually," he said after a pause in which Monica said nothing (she didn't know where this was going anymore), "I think I did better than that."  
  
At that moment, the doorbell rang.  
  
"Someone's at the door," Monica said absently, still wondering what Mulder was talking about. "I'll... call you back, okay?"  
  
"Sure." His voice disappeared that quickly, leaving her with only the tone in her ear. Still holding the phone, Monica went to the door.  
  
"Hello?" she said, opening the door, but her voice fell away when she saw who was there.  
  
Fox Mulder grinned at her, his face light by the morning sun. "Aren't you going to say something?" he asked as Monica stared her phone in disbelief and then at the cellular phone in his hand.  
  
"W-what should I say?" Monica replied, not even trying to mask her shock anymore.  
  
"Say my name," Mulder said, pocketing his cell phone. He stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her before she could respond. "Please, Monica," he whispered into her ear. "Say my name."  
  
The end.  
  
~X~  
  
You Move Me  
  
sung by Garth Brooks  
  
This is how it seems to me  
  
Life is only therapy  
  
Real expensive  
  
And no guaruntee  
  
So I lie here on the couch  
  
With my heart hanging out  
  
Frozen solid with fear  
  
Like a rock in the ground  
  
(chorus)  
  
But you move me  
  
YOu give me courage I didn't  
  
know I had  
  
YOu move me  
  
I can't go with you  
  
And stay where I am  
  
So you move me  
  
This is how love was to me  
  
I could look but not see  
  
Going through the emotions  
  
Not knowin' what they mean  
  
And it scared me so much  
  
That I just wouldn't budge  
  
I might have stayed there forever  
  
If not for your touch  
  
(chorus)  
  
Oh but you move me  
  
Out of myself and in to the fire  
  
You move me  
  
Now I'm burning with love  
  
And hope and desire  
  
How you move me  
  
You go whistling in the dark  
  
Making light of it  
  
Making light of it  
  
And I follow with my heart  
  
Laughing all the way  
  
(chorus)  
  
Oh 'cause you move me  
  
You get me dancing and you  
  
make me sing  
  
You move me  
  
Now I'm taking delight  
  
In every little thing  
  
How you move me  
  
~X~ 


End file.
